


staying at my place

by ToAStranger



Series: Luster [10]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Plug, Fluff, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Rutting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 05:11:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3797992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToAStranger/pseuds/ToAStranger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	staying at my place

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Hi! Since I can't get enough of your fics I thought that maybe you'd like to write my prompt? Pretty please. Okay so : A continuation of the courting fic, where Stiles just can't get the thought of having both Deucalion and Peter out of his head and that leads to other interesting thoughts. Mainly how they would fill Stiles up. Sooo. He tries having a plug inside him the entire day at home but of course Peter and Deucalion come by and sniff him out (heh) . Dirty talk ensues. Thanks!

Stiles can’t stop thinking about it.  The way Peter and Deucalion had strung him out for what seemed like forever.  The way the tips of his fingers and toes had still tingled when he woke up, cocooned between them, in the morning.  He’d ached in all the best ways.

He keeps thinking about the both of them.  They way they’d taken turns teasing him, taunting him, stringing him out until he was taut and straining, features etched in ecstasy. The praise they’d muttered against his skin felt like brands; lying in bed, Stiles touches a spot on his neck, along his side, at his hip and swears he can feel their words.  It has been days and Stiles can still feel them, taste them.

The house is all his today.  His father is on a double—left at seven a.m. and won’t be back until the next morning.  Stiles has no plans, so he decides self-indulgence is on his menu for the day.

He jerks off thinking about Peter and Deucalion, then showers to wash the mess away.  While he’s in there, he takes out a toy—one he’d gotten on the sly off online—and eases the tapered plug into himself with a liberal amount of slick.  He savors the steady work it takes to press it inside of himself; when he’d first opened the package it came in, he’d balked, having underestimated its girth.  

Once he has it inside, though, stretching him as he braces himself heavily against the wall, he finds himself in pure bliss.  He doesn’t linger too much longer after that.  Instead, he changes into loose pants and a cotton tee after drying off, padding downstairs to spend his day lazing on the couch.  

That’s where he falls asleep, dozing in and out of consciousness, every move a little more careful with the plug still inside of him.  It feels good, makes him feel heavy, and he moans quietly when he turns over on the couch, ignoring the soft murmur of the television.  It is when there are fingers threading through his hair that he finally stirs back to wakefulness.

Blinking tiredly, he peers up and pauses when he sees Deucalion sitting against the arm of the couch, smile soft on his face as he pets through Stiles’ hair.  “Duke.”

“Hello, darling.”

“What are you doing here?” he asks, sitting up carefully.

“He thought we should check on you,” Peter replies drolly from where he’s lounging in a chair across the room.

Stiles blinks a few times.  “Why?”

“You haven’t called or checked in for a few days,” Deucalion adds, fingers still idle through Stiles’ hair; he leans up into the touch, sort of butting his head back as his eyes drift shut again.  “I was worried.”

“What’s there to be worried about?” Stiles asks in a slur, sleepily dragging himself closer to rest his cheek on Deucalion’s thigh.  

“Well,” Deucalion sighs quietly.  “I was concerned we went a bit too far the last time we were all together.”

“No way,” Stiles grunts.

Peter laughs.  “I told you as much.”

“It doesn’t hurt to  _check_ ,” Deucalion huffs.

Tilting his head back, Stiles smiles sort of dopily at Deucalion. “Thanks.”

Deucalion returns the look.  “You’re very welcome.”

From across the way, Peter rolls his eyes.  “Can we move beyond the trivialities?”

Lips pursed, Stiles gives him a dry look, cheek nuzzling into Deucalion’s thigh.  He feels surprisingly tactile.  Wonders if it has anything to do with how relaxed he is.  

“What would you rather talk about, Peter?” Stiles asks.

“Perhaps why you smell so aroused right now?” Peter suggests, brows up, grin crooked.

Stiles’ face burns.  

“Peter,” Deucalion chides.

Pushing to his feet, Peter shrugs.  He pads over slowly, practically prowls, coming to a slow stop before the pair of them.  His brow lifts, and Stiles shifts, swallowing thickly as the weight of the toy in him moves too.  

They both breathe deep when Stiles lets out a quiet noise. Deucalion’s fingers still in his hair.

“Stiles,” Peter says, almost a purr, settling down on the edge of the couch next to him.  “What have you been up to?”

Stiles swallows thickly.  “Um.”

They weasel the information out of him easily.  Tease it out of him.  The dark look he earns, that the two of them share before focusing on Stiles, is worth the heat at his cheeks.  

After that, everything unravels.  He ends up in Peter's lap, balanced on his thigh, just rocking.  It’s sort of ridiculous, how easy they end up having him strung out.  He clutches at Peter’s hand where it is gripping his hip, at Deucalion’s shoulder, and moans when they mutter dark, sweet things in his ear.  They ask him how he wants it to go, if he wants it to last or if he wants it to go quick. He stammers that he doesn’t know.

They give him a bit of both.  String him out until he can’t see straight, until he’s whimpering and tearing up. Then they pet him, stroke him, and make him come until he can barely move other than to rut.  

In the end, Peter caries him up to bed, lays him down and kisses him until he’s about to pass out again.  Deucalion and Peter cocoon around him, fingers ceaselessly wondering. Stiles falls asleep with a smile on his face.


End file.
